The Terrible Twos...

I seriously thought it was a myth.

With Connah, we sailed through his second year in a blissful sea of learning and adventure. The amount of knowledge that was packed inside his head during that year was epic, and he quietly analyzed it all and stored it away for future reference.

The Attack however, seems to think that being two is something that the universe has done specifically to irritate him.

He learns. He learns a lot. But he does it loudly. There is no quiet contemplation with the Attack - he works through his confusion emotionally, verbally, and right smack in your face.

One of his biggest tantrum inducing conversations goes like this:

The Attack: "Carry me."

Me: "No Ash, you don't need a carry, that's why you have legs."

The Attack: "No! I neeeeeeeed a CARRYYYYYYYY!!!" AHHHHHHHHH WAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AHHHHH WAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

This continues until he gets distracted. Sometimes two minutes, sometimes an hour. Fortunately, this list of things capable of distracting a meltdown of this magnitude is fairly long, but nothing works every time. It's a matter of making your way through the list until something clicks:

Me: "Ash, do you want to play cars?"

The Attack: "WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO!!! CARRY ME!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. *Stamps foot repeatedly.*

Me: "Do you want to hold Koko?

The Attack: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! WAAAAAAAA EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! *Throws himself on the floor.*

Me: "Do you want to hide in the cupboard?

The Attack: "O.K." *Picks himself up off the floor and smiles, which is adorable even though he is covered in tears and snot and dog hair from rolling around on the ground.*

This happens 17 times a day.

These episodes are interspersed with bouts of intense hyperactivity, (he likes to run at you at full speed and then launch himself onto you while screaming BOINGGGG! It's more fun if you're not expecting it,) and slightly exaggerated accusations tossed in Connah's direction, (he once woke up in the middle of the night to tell me that Connah had just kicked him in the face. Connah was sleeping in his own room on the other side of the house.)

He loves trying new things. As long as they go exactly the way he imagines they will in his head.

His first trip to the snow was awesome, for six minutes. Then he slipped over. He stared at that snow like it had just committed an unimaginable act of betrayal, his brain couldn't seem to accept the fact that snow is cold and slippery. He then spent the best part of the next two hours crying that he wanted to go home.

The beach was the same: Yay! Sand! Sand castles! Water! Digging holes! Fun!!! But wait... The sand is hot, and the water moves! TOWARDS YOU! HOW CAN THIS BE?!?!

He is still very sensitive to loud noises, (unless he is making them,) so will often be seen trucking around with a pair of earmuffs on.

Reasons to wear earmuffs:

1) Someone is vacuuming, or mowing lawns.

2) The scary part in Shrek is coming up.

3) A bird is singing too loud.

4) Connah wants to wear the earmuffs.

If earmuffs are unavailable due to them falling in the toilet / the dog eating them / leaving the house without them, then I must cup my hands over his ears really tight. This is a little disturbing to do in public places, as the way he likes me to have my hands kinda makes it look like I'm trying to pull his head off. I'm not, just so we're clear on that.

During the times when he's not melting down, or being betrayed by the world, The Attack is hilarious. He picks up adult speech readily, and easily incorporates it into his own vocabulary. When asked why he wasn't eating last night, his response was: "My capsicum tastes a little funky - it's probably rotten." Awesome.

"That's OK, though" has become his catch phrase as of late:

Me: "Ash, we need to get your shoes on, we're already late."

The Attack: "That's O.K, though."

Me: "Ash, don't put your cup upside down on your head, you just spilled water all over yourself."
The Attack: "That's O.K, though."

Me: "Go to the bathroom before you pee all over the floor!"
The Attack: "That's O.K, though."

Ashden is funny, cheeky and adorable - which is a fairly lethal combination. He makes the whole world grin like a idiot dancing in the whiskers of baby kittens.

And then he'll realize that the car he is holding in his hand is the blue Porsche, when he actually wanted to play with the blue Lamborghini, and he'll explode. Like a bomb. It. Is. Spectacular.

He turns three in September. I'm kinda hoping three comes with a tantrum switch, or at least a touch more logic.

Four more months...


xox